This Darkness Is Weighing Me Down
by spikescrypt
Summary: The pack has to deal with the fact that Stiles might not have such an innocent soul anymore. Sterek
1. Riddled

Caution: This has spoilers for the episode titled "Riddled."

"So, you think he was just sleepwalking? Or is there something more to it?"

Derek turns to Aiden with a patronizing stare. "In this town there's always something more," he answers wisely.

"What if I told you I know something more? I kind of overheard," Aiden pauses. "Well," he acknowledges. "I listened in on Stiles talking to Scott. How he thinks he was the one who wrote that message in the Chemistry room. The message telling Barrow to kill Kira."

Aiden glances at Derek with a meaningful look. Derek usually wants to punch off whatever stupid expression appears on Aiden's face. Whether it is full of smugness, arrogance, or simply a patronizing smile. Today is no exception.

"You think Stiles, skinny, defenseless, Stiles is the Nogitsune? A powerful, dark spirit?" If Stiles is a dark spirit than Derek is a gold looting leprechaun. Seriously, that boy couldn't hurt a baby panda. It isn't just about muscle mass either, it's his _**soul**_. Stiles has one of the purest hearts that Derek has ever seen. The kid is absolutely unfathomable in his devotion to Scott, even when it means putting himself in harm's way. The word no doesn't even seem to be in Stiles' vocabulary. Tell him there's something he can't do and he finds a way to prove you wrong. Derek has learned early on never to underestimate him. So yes, Stiles Stilinski maybe a lot of things, but_** dark**_ is not one of them.

"I'm not the only one thinking it. I'm just the only one saying it," Aiden defends.

It's like this idiot has never even _met_ Stiles. Seriously, does Derek really have to share a pack with this moron? Derek has more muscle definition in his pinky than Stiles has in his whole body. A Twinkie has more filling than Stiles. Okay, so maybe the reason Stiles couldn't be dark had a _tiny _bit to do with muscle mass.

"This thing wants to possess someone and chooses Stiles?" The idea was laughable. "Why wouldn't it take someone bigger, stronger? Someone with a little more power? Someone who doesn't wear t-shirts with ridiculous phrases on them? Who can eat a bag of curly fries without dropping half of them? That can go five minutes without making a sarcastic comment? Why would a demon possess a person who is completely helpless, and selfless, and loyal, and _**good**__?"_

Derek finally breaks off from his tangent to find Aiden with a disgustingly arrogant grin on his face.

"What," he asks, already regretting it.

"Someone has the hot's for Stilinski," Aiden teases.

"I hate you so much," Derek says.


	2. Letharia Vulpina

Chapter 2: _Letharia Vulpina_

"Scott, it's time. You have to tell Stilinski. You have to tell him what's really wrong with Stiles."

"How can I tell him Derek? Stiles is all the Sheriff has left. This will destroy him." Scott rubs his face against his sleeve, pushing back tears.

"He needs to know," Derek says.

"I'll find him. Just let me find him," Scott pleads. "I'll find him before he does anything else. The Sheriff doesn't have to…"

Derek lays a hand on Scott's shoulder. "Scott, the Sheriff needs to know."

Scott drops his head in defeat. He nods.

* * *

><p>The Sheriff can't believe what he is hearing. A <strong><em>demon<em>** has control of his son. An evil entity is living inside his boy.

**_Controlling him. _**

**_Using him. _**

The Sheriff fights back the urge to vomit. It's his responsibility to protect his son. Stiles is his only child, his baby. But there's no way that he can protect Stiles against this. The Sheriff is only human he can't fight things that he cannot even see. Things that made a home inside his son's body….

The Sheriff levels a dark look at Scott and Derek. "Get that **_thing_** out of my son," he orders. "I don't care how you do it. Just do it without hurting Stiles. And for God sake's make that damn abomination **_suffer._**"

"I promise," Scott says. "Stiles will be fine; he'll be back to his old self in no time."

Derek frowns at Scott, unwilling to make promises he may not be able to keep.

"Bring him back safe," the Sheriff pulls Scott into a hug. "Stiles loves you like a brother. I know you'll do whatever needs to be done to find him.

"I will," Scott vows.

"And take care of yourselves too," the Sheriff adds. "Stiles would never forgive me if I ordered you both to track him down only to be killed in the process," he looks pointedly at Derek.

Derek frowns. He highly doubts that Stiles would be too broken up over his passing. He would get over it quickly; maybe have a party in Derek's honor.

"We'll both be careful," Scott says.

"Good. Now go save my boy."

* * *

><p>Chris Argent is pointing a gun right against Derek's head. If Derek wasn't curious as to why one of the hunter's emitter's were left at his loft he would just bash the guy's head in.<p>

"I have no idea why that would be in your loft," Argent releases his defensive stance. "I spent the entirety of the last two days trying to find Stiles." Derek listens to the steady rhythm of his heart, Argent isn't lying.

"Any luck?" Derek already knows the answer, but he cannot stop himself from hoping.

"No," Argent confirms.

"Me either. Okay, we're both trying to find Stiles. Mind if I ask what you plan on doing if you find him?" Derek needs to make sure that Argent isn't planning to shoot first, ask questions second.

"Well, that depends on which Stiles I find," the hunter says, checking his gun.

Derek grabs the gun with supernatural reflexes and takes out the bullets. "See, that's not going to work for me.

Chris makes a move towards his desk, obviously searching for another weapon.

Derek pushes him roughly until the two are flush against one another.

"This is what's going to happen," Derek states. "If you find Stiles you call me or you call Scott. You do not attack Stiles under any circumstances. You do not shoot, hit, or threaten him in any way." Derek pushes his body harder against Argent's. "Do we understand each other?"

"He's killing people, Derek. It's only a matter of time until he kills again. How much longer are you going to protect him?"

"As long as it takes," Derek says. "Until he's safe."


	3. The Divine Move: Part 1

**The Divine Move: Part 1**

The Oni move in closer from all sides, surrounding Derek. They hold their swords up menacingly, just waiting for the signal from their master to strike. The Nogitsune does not seem in any hurry to attack. He enjoys the suspense, feeds off the anticipation coursing through Derek's veins. Derek knows that the fox enjoys playing with his food before ripping it to shreds.

"You put up such a gallant fight," it says in Stiles' voice, while wearing Stiles' face.

Yet, anyone who has ever met Stiles should instantly be able to tell that this is an imposter. However much Derek and Stiles get under each other's skin, Derek has never heard the human speak with such venom.

"It's such a pity that I have to kill you," the Nogitsune continues. Face contorting into an overly regretful expression. "Such a waste, to destroy such ability. Are you sure that you don't want to join me instead? You could rule by my side. After all, I did brand you my king." He smiles wickedly, amused by his own pathetic attempt at humor.

"Stop stalling," Derek commands. "Let's end this now."

"My, my," the fox singsongs. "We_ are_ in a hurry to die. Though I must say, I do enjoy that forceful tone." Slowly, he spreads his hands over his hips. "You desire this body don't you, Derek?"

Derek glowers. "Go to hell."

"You want Stiles all for yourself," he continues, hands wandering lower against his sides. "Too bad that soon there will be nothing of the boy left."

Derek growls and attempts to move closer to the beast. The oni block his efforts with their swords and push him back.

"Now, now, Derek! That's not very nice."

"I'm not feeling very polite," Derek snarls. "I'm more interested in ripping your head off."

"Tsk, Tsk. So dramatic." A wide smile crosses the kitsune's face. "Maybe _that_ is what Stiles finds so intriguing about you, that and your killer abs."

Derek just stares at the creature; he refuses to be unnerved by anything that it has to say. He isn't going to play its game.

The Nogitsune laughs, voice filled with hate. Stiles always laughs with his whole body, head tilted back and radiating joy. The image helps to enforce the fact that this is _not _Stiles. This is a monster who stole Stiles' body.

"You think you're the only one carrying a torch?" The creature moves a few steps closer to Derek but not enough for Derek to attack.

"Young Stiles is just as taken with you as you are with him. Did you know that he touches himself when he's alone and imagines that it's your hands on him?" The kitsune squeals in absolute delight. "Do you enjoy hearing that, Derek? Does it get your wolf all hot and bothered?"

Derek struggles against the Oni, wanting to tear open the fox's throat. "When this is over, you'll wish that you had chosen someone else's body to invade," he promises.

The Nogitsune walks another two steps nearer to Derek. "Would you have preferred if I had entered your body, Derek? Are you jealous? You_ do_ have an incessant amount of self-loathing and resentment to feed a kitsune for a very long time."

He treads one footstep closer to Derek. "However, I prefer this body. Stiles just has so many more people who will be in absolute _agony_ over losing him. How could I resist?" He smiles condescendingly. "Stiles only has a few moments left. How unfortunate that there will be no happy ending for your love story. _Now kill him!"_

The Oni raise their swords to obey their master. However, the Nogitsune made a fatal error in taking that last step closer to Derek.

The wolf leaps upon the fox and proceeds to rip the fox's head off with his teeth. As void Stiles' head falls to the floor, the rest of the body turns to dust and dissolves. The Oni disappear along with their leader in a surge of smoke.

"Change the host, "Derek recites. "Well, I would say having no head is a pretty big change."

Derek hopes that the death of the Nogitsune was enough to cure Stiles. If Stiles dies just because the Nogitsune is dead, there is no justice in this world.

"_Derek!"_

Derek turns at the sound of his name being called. "Derek, you did it!"

Isaac is running towards him. "We all came as quickly as we could to help, but clearly you don't need any help. I cannot _believe _you actually killed that bastard," he pats Derek's back in a congratulatory manner.

Derek sees Scott and Lydia holding Stiles up between them. He sighs, immensely relieved that Stiles is alive.

"I'm so sorry you had to this alone. We were trapped in an illusion," Scott explains. "Stiles figured it out though. Are you okay, Derek?" Scott looks him up and down, checking for any signs of injury.

"Fine," Derek reassures him. "Can't say the same for him though," he says, pointing to the small pile of dust which is all that's left of the kitsune.

Stiles smiles widely.

"We're all okay," he says.

"Yeah, buddy," Scott agrees tightening his grip on Stiles, as the boy starts to slip from his arms. Derek sees how exhausted Stiles is, his two friends barely able to hold him up.

"Let's get you home," Derek says, staring into Stiles' wide eyes.

PS: The next chapter will focus on Derek's dream.

PPS: I just made a Tumblr! If you have one please add me because I need followers. I've already made a bunch of Teen Wolf stuff, but only posted a few things so far. I have much more Sterek and other Teen Wolf stuff to post. I also made a bunch of stuff for the shows Lost Girl, Bitten, and Sleepy Hollow. I just haven't posted any of it yet. Please follow me and let me know what you think about the stuff I'm making. I'd love your feedback and also just read a message from you. The link is on my bio page.


	4. The Divind Move: Part 2

**The Divine Move: Part 2**

Six fingers.

Derek's hand has six fingers.

This means that this is all a dream.

"You're not real," he tells dream Stiles.

"Guess not," Stiles responds. "Pity, I quite enjoyed the idea of you here," he motions towards the bench. "Do you normally dream of being inside a locker room alone with teenage boys?"

"Not usually," Derek smiles. "Except that lately I've found myself thinking of all kinds of things."

Stiles wiggles his eyebrows mischievously. "Yeah, such as?"

"Well, for starters how it would feel to absolutely _**ruin**_ you," Derek breathes. He can admit this here freely and without consequence. The real Stiles will never find out about his pointless infatuation. This is only a dream. He might as well enjoy it while he can.

"I'd want to own you," he continues, voice dripping with lust. "I want to hear the sounds you would make when I'm inside you. I want to hear you fucking scream."

"That's not very honorable, Derek," Dream Stiles teases, watching him through fluttering lashes. "And lusting after a sheriff's son no less. What would people think?"

"Most of the morons in this town already believe that I'm some sort of drug dealing killer for the mafia. It doesn't matter what they think," Derek responds.

"That would make one fine television show," Stiles jokes. "Instead of the Godfather, there would be the Alpha. Instead of whacking people…well, there would still be whacking. Only with fewer guns and more teeth."

"Dream you talks as much as the real you," Derek observes.

"You must _**really **_enjoy my talking then," Stiles grins. "After all, this is your dream. You are the one controlling it."

"I do like it," Derek admits. He would never tell the actual Stiles just how much he enjoys the boy's incessant babble. It was strangely soothing. "However, I can think of other uses for that mouth of yours."

Stiles lifts a hand to Derek's lips, finger gently tracing the bottom half.

Derek moans loudly. He pulls Stiles against his body and shivers in delight. He never thought that he would ever get to experience the feel of Stiles' body against his own.

He closes his eyes as Stiles rakes a hand through his hair.

"You have to leave now, Derek."

Derek opens his eyes. "What? No, I don't want to leave yet," he panics. "I want to stay."

Stiles smiles softly and rubs a finger softly against Derek's cheek. "You'll see me again soon. The real me."

"Please," Derek pleads. "Let me stay."

"You don't belong here. Your friends need you. _**I**_ need you," Stiles tilts Derek's head so that they are staring directly into one another's eyes. "Promise me something," he commands.

Derek nods obediently.

"Don't doubt, what I tell you."

Derek frowns. "I don't understand."

"You will," Stiles smiles. "Goodbye Derek Hale."

* * *

><p>Derek wakes up feeling as though his stomach is on fire.<p>

He groans uncomfortably and tries to sit up only to find a pair of hands pushing him back down.

"Careful," Peter says. "You're still not fully healed."

"Where am I? What happened?" Derek looks down at his stomach and finds that it is covered in blood.

"You're at the loft," Peter explains. "Scott brought you back here after finding you lying on the ground with a giant hole in your middle. You resembled a jelly doughnut, only with a tad more blood filling than raspberry. Do you remember what happened?"

Derek tries to think back but it's too foggy. He remembers dreaming of Stiles.

Of touching Stiles.

Whatever occurred before that is a giant question mark.

"It's all a blank," he tells Peter.

Peter frowns despondently. "It would seem that someone has tried very hard to make you forget what transpired,"

Derek sits up very slowly, his body burning. "Why would they do that?"

"My guess is that you saw something that you were not supposed to see."

Derek really wishes that he could remember who the person was that did this to him. So that he could rip their throat out.

"Where are Scott and the others?" Derek needs to make sure that they are all safe.

Peter grins wickedly. "By others, do you mean Stiles Stilinkski?"

Derek glares. He is_** so **_not in the mood for Peter's shit.

"You were talking in your sleep. Seems that you care more for that boy than you let on."

Derek growls menacingly.

"Panting after a teenage boy. Best friend of the alpha. Son of the sheriff. I'm impressed nephew. I hadn't realized that you could be such a rule breaker."

Derek exhales, resigned. Now that Peter knows about his crush, he'll never shut up about it. Derek should really just kill him and get it over with.

"Not that I can't understand the appeal," Peter continues. "Stiles is cunning, intelligent, and practically ruthless when his friend's lives are threatened. All qualities I admire, which is precisely why I offered him the bite."

Derek's hand is around Peter's throat in an instant.

"_You did what?"_ Derek grits his teeth in frustration. He squeezes Peter's throat just a little bit harder.

"I offered young Stiles the bite. He didn't tell you? He turned me down, though. Such a shame, he really would have made a spectacular wolf. In fact, he would have been _**diabolical**_**,"** Peter's mouth forms a wide maniacal smile. Diabolical indeed.

"Stay away from Stiles," Derek threatens. "He's not going to become a wolf."

"You could offer him the bite, Derek. He might be swayed if it was you that was offering it to him."

Derek shakes Peter roughly, hoping to get his point across. "Never, he's staying human." Derek hates the idea of Stiles as a wolf. The boy's humanity is what makes him stronger, not weaker. It's what provides him with that unflinching loyalty to his loved ones. Derek wouldn't take that away for anything.

Peter sighs, as though he's being severely inconvenienced. "As you wish. Now if you would be kind enough to loosen your grip, I would be much appreciative."

Derek unwillingly lets Peter loose. His uncle opens the door to leave. "Oh, do let me know how that dream turns out," he taunts.

Derek throws a lounge chair at him.

* * *

><p>Derek might never make his dream a reality. But what he could do was make sure that Stiles continued to be happy and safe.<p>

He climbs through the teen's window and comes face to face with that damn chess board. Derek's name is still branded right onto the king.

"I didn't want to get rid of it," Stiles says, nodding towards the board. "It's a symbol that we won."

Stiles looks exhausted. He has dark circles under his eyes.

"Have you been sleeping?"

"Not much of a fan for sleep lately," Stiles answers, looking Derek up and down. "You look as though you could use some rest yourself."

Derek holds up a hand to wear the hole in his middle is slowly healing. "I'll be fine, just need some more time to heal."

"You really don't remember who shot you?" Stiles looks extremely nervous.

"It wasn't him," Derek reassures the boy. "The Nogitsune is dead."

Stiles nods. "I know. It's just, it never ends. There's always something to be afraid of."

"I don't want you to be afraid," Derek says, then stills. He hadn't meant to say that out loud. It was a mistake coming over here not fully recovered. He didn't even realize what he was saying until it was too late.

Stiles is staring at him in surprise. Since it's already too late to take back his comment, Derek may as well get some answers.

There are some things he needs to know.

"Why did you make me your king?" He wanted to know the reason for that ever since seeing his name attached to the board.

"That wasn't me, Derek. That was a demented fox demon that stole my face," Stiles replies bitterly. "How am I supposed to know what was going through his head?"

"He knew everything you knew. You were two sides of the same coin. Elements from your subconscious had to have made their way to his thoughts. Something to have influenced some of the decisions he made."

"What are you saying?" Stiles demands angrily. "What the fuck are you implying?"

Derek sighs dejectedly. "I just want to know if it meant something."

Stiles puts his hand upon Derek's shoulder. "It probably did mean something, to him. Everything he did had some sort of methodical reasoning to it, however crazy it may have been."

Of course it didn't mean anything to Stiles. It was the joke of a madman.

Derek let that dream affect him too much. It got into his head.

He needed to remember that the dream wasn't real. Stiles wasn't his, never would be his. Derek had to get is emotions under control.

"I guess I have my answer then," he says resigned. "You should get some sleep." He tries to move back towards the window but Stiles hand on his shoulder keeps him in place.

"Derek, don't go. You're just asking the wrong questions. You should be asking if it would have meant something if _**I**_ had made you my king. Me, not that imposter."

"Would it have meant something?" Derek hears the hopefulness seeping through his voice. He cannot bring himself to care that he sounds so needy.

Stiles hand moves from his shoulder to cup Derek's cheek. Derek immediately leans into the touch.

"Damn right, it would have," Stiles leans into Derek and allows their lips to touch.

Kissing Stiles is intoxicating. His dream hadn't even felt this euphoric.

Wait the dream.

This is just another dream.

Derek pulls away from Stiles. "This isn't real," he says miserably. "It's another dream."

Stiles blinks at him in confusion. "Another? You've dreamt of me before?"

Derek nods. "And I still am."

Stiles grabs Derek's hands. "Count," he commands.

Derek observes his hands suspiciously.

Each hand has 5 fingers.

"Now count mine," Stiles commands, wiggling his long digits.

Once again, there are ten.

"You are not dreaming, big guy. This is all real."

Derek shakes his head. He can't allow himself to trust this. He'll only wake up alone and hurt.

Stiles threads their fingers together. "Listen to what I am telling you, Derek Hale. You are not dreaming."

Derek reflects on his dream. Of Stiles saying his name in a similar manner and telling Derek not to doubt him. Dream Stiles was telling him to trust this Stiles. The _**actual **_Stiles.

"This is really you," Derek states in astonishment.

Stiles beams jubilantly. "It really is. Now how about more of that kissing cause I'm not getting any young—"

Derek shuts him up with a kiss.

* * *

><p>"You want to play some chess?" Stiles questions several hours later.<p>

Derek looks towards the board where his name is branded. "I've had enough of that thing to last me a lifetime. Gives me the creeps."

Stiles laughs amused. "Well let's see if we can fix that." He grabs a pen and a bright yellow post it note.

Derek watches as Stiles writes something on the note then goes to the board and removes the label with Derek's name. He rolls it into a ball and throws it in the garbage bin. Then he places the post it on the king where the Nogitsune's identifier previously stood.

"How about now?" Stiles asks him.

Derek walks over to the board and reads the post it.

The name Derek is written with a small crown drawn below it.

Derek smirks delightedly. "Does it mean that this time I'm _**your**_ king?"

Stiles kisses his smiling face. "Indeed it does. Now kindly remove those pants, your Highness."

* * *

><p>P.S -Next chapter will be: What if it was all role play?<p>

P.P.S-Please follow me on tumblr


	5. What If It Was All Role-Play?

**What If It Was All Role-Play?**

Derek finds two socks lying on the living room floor. He makes his way towards the bedroom, socks gripped tightly in his left hand.

"Stiles, I told you to stop leaving your dirty socks on the floor. I'm not your maid. You don't," he stops. "What the hell is that look for?"

Stiles' face has been transformed from his sweet and mischievous appearance, into something harsh and calculating.

"Stiles isn't here anymore," this new Stiles says.

"No? Then who's dirty socks am I holding," Derek waves the socks in the air.

"I am a thousand year old spirit," Stiles claims. "You could never defeat me."

"Sure," Derek agrees. "There's absolutely no way that I could beat a spirit as old as you say you are."

He moves closer to Stiles.

"Except, I know that your true weakness is _**tickles**_," Derek furiously begins to tickle his boyfriend.

Stiles holds his hands out protectively, trying to stop his laughter.

"Derek, wait." Stiles giggles helplessly. "I give, I give."

Derek stops his onslaught of tickles and grins lovingly at his mate.

"Way to ruin my awesome attempt at role-playing," Stiles complains. "I was just about to order you to remove your pants."

"Sorry," Derek apologizes, not really sorry at all. "You can still make me strip for you, I guess."

Stiles grins wickedly. "Or I can be Little Red Riding Hood. Then you come in as the big bad wolf who wants to eat me up."

Derek rolls his eyes contemptuously.

"Is that role-playing or reality? I see no difference," he says.

Stiles kisses the edge of Derek's jaw softly. Derek closes his eyes in delight.

"Is that so? You thinking about eating me up," Stiles kisses move lazily onto Derek's chest.

"That and the fact that we share a closet full of your red hoodies," Derek smirks. "Plus, actual wolf," he points towards himself deliberately.

Stiles bops him on the nose. "Smart aleck," he chuckles. "Next time, I can be Justin Bieber to your Selena Gomez."

Derek glances at him horrified. "We need to break up," he declares.

Stiles smacks him gently on the ass. "Liar," he laughs. "You would cry over me every day."

"Though I wouldn't have to pick up any more dirty socks off the floor," Derek jokes.

"You love my stinky socks. I once saw you stuff one under your pillow to sniff," Stiles teases.

Derek hides his red cheeks in the crook of Stiles' neck. That was before they had moved in together. Derek just missed having the scent of his boyfriend with him at night. So, sue him. He's only human. Well, sort of.

"What should we role-play next? I know you always had a thing for the Green Lantern," Stiles wiggles his eyebrows mischievously.

Derek frowns unimpressed. "Why can't we just be Derek and Stiles?"

Stiles frowns in confusion. "We'll sure. But pretending to be someone else helps spice things up."

Derek stretches his body over Stiles, completely covering his boyfriend's body with his own.

"Our relationship doesn't need any spicing up," Derek insists. "We're already Mexican food with extra hot sauce."

Stiles laughs delightedly. "You say the sweetest things."

Derek nips at Stiles' throat gently. "Besides, you were terrible at pretending to be an evil spirit."

Stiles gasps in offense. "Nuh-uh," he smacks Derek on the ass.

"I defeated you with tickles," Derek sniggers.

Stiles sighs in defeat. "Guess I'm not cut out to be evil. I'm more the damsel in distress type."

"I think you're more the hero type," Derek says.

Stiles kisses Derek on the temple. "There you go again, saying sweet things."

Stiles grins wickedly. Then his face alters back to its cruel form. "Evil Stiles likes his werewolf's sweet," Stiles says in a deep voice. "Now take off those pants, before I destroy you."

Derek grins in amusement. His boyfriend is such a dork.

_Derek loves him so much._

"Yes, Evil Stiles," Derek says, removing his jeans.

"Role-playing is the best," Stiles proclaims, staring eagerly as his boyfriend strips.

**The End.**

_This is the last chapter. Hope you enjoyed the story. I'm working on a bunch more, stay tuned._


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